


The Pen Pal

by Madam_Fandom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Fandom/pseuds/Madam_Fandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pen pals, what could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pen Pal

**Author's Note:**

> This was my second writing prompt challenge, the prompt being "pen pals". Hope you like it. Tried something new.

Chuck was sitting in front of his desktop computer, reading the newest email from his pen pal, a guy who liked to be called Metatron. He seemed to have a god complex and wasn’t shy about showing it. They had been communicating through email for the past 3 months. Chuck and Metatron had “met” on a website for aspiring writers. It was sort of, kind of like a support group for writers.

At first it was an email a week. And then an email every other day. Chuck was okay with that. Metatron seemed like an alright dude. And they had plenty in common. Most importantly, writing. Metatron was a kick ass editor, not so good with actually coming up with ideals and putting it to words. But man, oh man, could he read your manuscript and pinpoint all the changes you needed to make so that your story really shined.

Metatron had recently started writing Chuck everyday. And where as it didn't bother him, he just didn't always have things to talk about with him, or the time to reply nonetheless. But Chuck read each email when he could. His replies back to Metatron were becoming far and few between; but they were lengthy because he tried to touch on all the import points from Metatron’s emails to him.

Chuck read this particular email for a second time.

_**“I came by your apartment, but you weren't there. I thought maybe we could’ve went and grabbed lunch. But don’t worry about it, another time perhaps.”** _

There was more to the email, just more ramblings, but that particular comment made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He didn't recall ever telling Metatron where he lived. He liked his solitude. Chuck brushed off the sense of foreboding he got after reading the letter, he figured it was just his overactive imagination.

Chuck had a date with a lady named Rowena, she was a fiery little spitfire. He had met her online as well, on a Wiccan Forum. He had gone up there to do research for a character in one of his stories. This would be their second date.

Chuck arrived to the sports bar just a hair late. He wasn't able to find his keys when it was time to go. He could be a bit messy and unorganized at times.

He spotted Rowena’s curly red hair all the way on the other side of the bar, it appeared that someone was sitting with her.

When he had saddled on up to her booth he was shocked into speechlessness. The guy sitting with Rowena was dressed exactly like him. ¾ sleeve, blue and white baseball shirt, dark acid wash denim jeans and blue converse. It was Metatron.

Chuck gave Metatron a look of puzzlement.

Rowena stood and accepted a kiss on her cheek as Chuck greeted her.

“Chuck darling, you didn't tell me you were inviting a friend along for our date.” She sounded slightly peeved.

“Actually...” both Chuck and Metatron started saying at the same time. Chuck gave him a look, trying to silently convey, _what the hell man?_

Metatron opted to ignore the look and finish what he was saying. “Actually Rowena, I remembered that Chuck had told me this was his favorite bar. I had went by his house yesterday and he wasn't home. So I was hoping to run into him here.

“Aye, this place is quite good.” Rowena purred back, her voice was beautiful, she was from Scotland and she still had her lilting accent.

Chuck remained silent, he was trying to remember if he had mentioned this place to Metatron. He was almost positive he hadn’t. He tried to be very careful not to give out any info that would give away his city or state of residence. Yet here Metatron was, creating an awkward situation on his second date.

“Yeah, I totally had no clue he would be here. But nonetheless Rowena, will you forgive me?”

“Of course Chuck, he wasn’t bad company anyways. He reminds me of you in a lot of ways.” Rowena beamed up at him.

Chuck glanced at Metatron. He was grinning like a canary who had caught the cat.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, but pleasant. He kissed Rowena goodnight, again on the cheek. He was sure he could've got one on the lips had Metatron not been there.

Chuck said his goodnight to Metatron as well, telling him they would catch up tomorrow.

Chuck woke up to the smell of food. Not just any food, bacon! His favorite. But that was impossible. He lived alone.

Chuck fumbled around for his glasses on his nightstand, put them on and stumbled into the bathroom. After he was done in there he felt half awake. He sniffed the air. Coffee? He was now smelling coffee.

He made his way to the kitchen stopping short. He didn't know what to expect, but it wasn’t Metatron in his kitchen, in his night robe, eating his bacon, plus other foods, but he was more focused on the bacon.

“What are you doing here? In my apartment?” Chuck barked. He looked around to see if there was anymore food. He didn't see any.

“Oh hey buddy! Hope I didn't wake ya.” Metatron smiled.

Chuck stalked to his refrigerator. All his bacon was gone. As was his eggs and milk too. He whirled around to confront the other man again.

“You ate all my food! What are you even doing in my place!” Chuck demanded.

“Oh yeah, the publishing house called. They absolutely loved the new manuscript, they wanna talk numbers. Also, you got a letter in the mail from a different publisher, Eh, they didn't like “Bugs” so much, they said they will pass.” Metatron filled him in, ignoring the questions altogether.

Chuck was fuming! How dare this virtual stranger come in his house, eat his food, wear his clothes, and read his mail! Oh! And take his phone calls.

“Metatron! Are you crazy! Get out of my house now before I call the cops.”

“Okay, okay. You don't have to sound so angry. If you didn't want me here, you shouldn't have invited me to stay.” Metatron quavered.

Chuck looked incredulous, “What! I didn't invite you here! I never even told you where I live! Get! Out! Now!” he bellowed.

Metatron got up, looking like he was going to burst into tears. He picked up the plate of food. “Leave the food.” Metatron sat the plate back down and proceeded to walk towards the front door.

“Metatron.” He glanced back at Chuck, hope in his eyes. “My night robe.” Metatron scowled at Chuck as he stripped off the robe and tossed it to the floor. “Oh dear god. Where are your clothes?” Chuck cried, Metatron didn't have on a stitch of clothing under the robe.

“In the dryer.” Metatron replied.

Chuck stormed to the laundry room grabbed his clothes out the dryer, stomped back to Metatron and threw them to him. “Now get out!”

“But they’re still wet.”

“I don't care. I _will_ call the cops.”

Metatron turned his back on Chuck and headed to the front door, dragging his clothes behind him like a child's blankie. He looked over his shoulder at Chuck, giving sad puppy dog eyes, waved and then walked out the door.

A couple of weeks had flown by, Chuck had got caught up with his budding relationship with Rowena and his new book deal. He had all but forgot about the creepy incident with Metatron.

He hadn’t been back on his personal email in quite some time. He pulled it up on his computer and was surprised to see he had 135 unread messages. He didn't really receive messages on his personal account, this was unusual.

Chuck opened the inbox and his mouth dropped. Every last email was from Metatron. He clicked on the first one. In the email Metatron was apologizing for crashing his date and showing up to his house. The second email, Metatron wanted to know if Chuck was still mad at him. And congratulated him on the book deal.

Chuck read through each and every email. His alarm and concern grew with each one. Some were very “woe is me” type emails, some talked about things Chuck had done, or events he had been to, making him think Metatron had been following him. One email had a picture of Metatron sporting a new tattoo, exactly like the one Chuck had.

Then the emails turned angry and threatening. He wasn't sure what to do or how to handle this.

He called Rowena. He filled her in on what happened a couple of weeks ago and all of the emails he had just read. “Oh dear. You should’ve reported this right away. Print out all the emails and take them down to the police station Chuckie.”

Chuck agreed that was probably for best. He got off the phone and turned back to his desktop. He had two new emails from Metatron. He opened the first one. It read, **_“You’ve finally read my emails.”_** And the second one, **_“Don't listen to Rowena, she is trying to come between us. There is no need to go to the police.”_**

Chuck looked around his living room. He didn't see anything out of place. But he had the creeps. He selected all the emails from Metatron and forwarded them to Rowena. Then he selected print. The printer started going.

He heard a low chime and realized it was his computer alerting him to a new email. His hand shook as he took the mouse and clicked on the email.

**_“Why did you do that Chuck? Why did you involve her? I liked Rowena too, so pretty. Now I will have to pay her a visit as well.”_ **

Chuck had received another chime while reading the new email. He opened the email, it contained an attachment. He paused before opening it. When he opened it, his heart stopped. It was a picture of him, right at this moment, sitting at his computer reading an email. He swung around in terror to look behind him.

Metatron was standing over him with a long silver blade in his hand. Chuck never heard him walk up because of the noise from the printer. And now it was too late.

Metatron raised his hand to plunge the blade home, Chuck shut his eyes and raised his hands in a feeble attempt to protect himself.

Nothing happened. Chuck opened one eye and peeked out. Metatron drove the blade into Chuck’s chest.

Metatron finished typing on his typewriter. He smiled. He was very happy with the way his story turned out.

_“And this was how I became Chuck Shurley, famous author.”_

Little would anyone know, that this was a true story. No names had been changed, nor any bodies found. Some days he missed his little pen pal, but life was much better now as Chuck.


End file.
